


Ship Design for the 23rd Century

by Daiya_Darko



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Extended Metaphors, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daiya_Darko/pseuds/Daiya_Darko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were two sailors caught in a sea they never knew with unfamiliar stars to guide them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ship Design for the 23rd Century

They started as hesitant friends, brought together by Jim’s endless encouragement. It was easier that way, easier to work when McCoy wasn't insulting Spock every five minutes. Somewhere along the line, Spock touched McCoy's shoulder and McCoy just knew things were  _different_.

Harsh words lost their edge, smoothed around the edges by calming words and gentle kisses in private. Spock was the emotional ballast McCoy needed, something to keep him upright when situations threatened to capsize him. He clung to Spock in times of weakness, needing that steady, logical voice to to keep him afloat when the storms never seemed to pass.

But a boat in the doldrums is better off dead, and McCoy never allowed for things to be so easy.

When there were times Spock seemed to not be able to make a decision, McCoy drove him out of the stale winds of thought. He consistently questioned and analyzed, forcing Spock to think aloud and hear himself. Thinking as slowly as he had to speak made him catch his errors in thinking, rewrite the maps and plans.

Neither of them were captain on this ship they sailed, only helmsman trying to navigate these unfamiliar waters to the best of their ability. No one told them where to go or why; they followed the stars and hoped for the best.

Some days, even when the sky boded well, their ship still ran aground, caught on unsuspecting coral reefs or where they thought the water ran deeper. McCoy was still sensitive, and still prone to ad hominem assaults - Spock was not moved by them, and somehow, McCoy took this to mean he was not important enough to be upset over.

"You just sit there and take it, so what am I'm  _supposed_  to think?" McCoy yelled.

"I understand that humans desire some sort of reaction to their emotional outbursts, however illogical, but I incorrectly assumed you were past that basic need. You do not need me to hurl abuses at you to know that I care deeply for you, Leonard. If I behave in a way that is frustrating - "

McCoy kissed him, because that was all he could do. He had to push them past this, push them off the rocky beaches so they could keep moving. If Spock were allowed to linger for long, allowed to dissect their relationship fight by fight, ever needy kiss by the tongue, there would be nothing left and McCoy's not ready for that again.

Only one ship never makes it to port, and that is a dead one; no one ever told McCoy that, but then McCoy is a doctor, not a 20th century sailor.

Without stopping for rest or supplies, they wore each other out, annoyed and frustrated by the other. When McCoy suggested they take a break, it seemed like the right time. Separate, they were Dr. McCoy and Commander Spock. In front of Jim, it was Leonard and Spock.

Alone they had no names, because after learning someone by the way they feel, names become unnecessary. How do you call someone by the way it felt when their hands were intertwined with yours? How do you call someone by the way you felt after every fight and they would kiss you hard enough to make everything worth it?

There are no words in Standard or in Vulcan.

After a few months of a break, McCoy began to realize this. He could touch anyone else and it wouldn't resonate so deeply into him the way it did with Spock. He didn't want to be worshiped and admired the way Chekov gave him, staring up at him longingly with unsure eyes. He didn't want to fight for dominance in bed like he did with Sulu.

He wanted the equal, assured footing that came with Spock; he was a mast too big for some ships, too small for others, and the only one he could make  _move_  was Spock.

When McCoy found Spock sitting in an empty conference room, hunched over various PADDs full of information, that look that signified he was reaching a breaking point on his face, McCoy said nothing as he touched Spock's shoulder. Spock leaned into the touch, closing his eyes for a deep breath, and whispered, "Leonard."

"Spock."

McCoy sat next to him and started the motors of Spock's brain, shutting off each PADD and demanding the information Spock knew. Spock's lip twitched in a smile, familiar with McCoy's brand of help and thankful. When Spock had finally reached a conclusion for his problem, he touched McCoy's hand and asked, "Why did you come find me?"

"Can't think when you're doin' all the thinkin' for me," McCoy smirked. He squeezed Spock's hand in his own and leaned forward on his knees. "When ships were initially built for the seas, they used wood. You know why?"

Spock considered this question thoughtfully. "It was easier than the metallurgy at that time would allow."

"No," McCoy rolled his eyes, "It was because it floats easily."

"Likewise, it is easy to sink." Spock narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"But they didn't know that at the time, and like you said, they didn't have the resources. Now, ships can go anywhere, and not just on the sea," McCoy's thumb ran over Spock's knuckles, and he watched where their skin met, in awe that this simple action could still Spock to a trembling mess.

Spock cleared his throat as he shifted uncomfortably. "Are you suggesting a change in design?"

McCoy shrugged. "I would redesign a thousand ships better and stronger if it meant I was on them with you."

When they kissed, it was the bottle of champagne against the mast.


End file.
